


Dancing in the Moonlight

by illea



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Autumn, Grief/Mourning, Halloween, M/M, Single Parent Derek Hale, Single Parent Stiles Stilinski, basically a hallmark movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illea/pseuds/illea
Summary: When Stiles and his daughter Claudia move to Beacon Hills, the Fall Festival seems like the perfect chance to get to know the town. But when Claudia befriends Lucas Hale, Stiles can't escape Lucas' gorgeous single dad, Derek. Will the town be everything Stiles is looking for—and maybe even more?(Basically a Hallmark movie).
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 253





	Dancing in the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Stiles' wife dies prior to the events of the fic.

“A pumpkin for my pumpkin!” Stiles proclaimed, holding it out to Claudia as if it were a rare jewel or a new puppy. She just kept drawing, the pencil moving across the page in a ragged line. She didn’t even look his way.

“Claudia,” Stiles whined, dropping the pumpkin onto the kitchen table with a thump. “Will you at least look at it?”

She raised her head slowly, offered the pumpkin an unimpressed glare, and looked at Stiles with a deadpan expression.

“Very orange.”

He wanted to chastise her for being rude, but he knew he couldn’t. It was their first week in Beacon Hills, and while he had a childhood full of good memories in this town, it was a strange new place for Claudia. She missed Portland: seeing her friends at school, spending hours at Powell's, trying a new coffee shop every Sunday. Stiles missed it too. The Portland weather turned Claudia’s hair into a cloud of tiny frizzy curls and when she turned at the right angle, she looked just like her mom.

“Honey,” Stiles said quietly, sliding into the chair next to her. “I know you’re upset, but I think you’ll love Beacon Hills if you just give it a chance.”

“Did Mom like Beacon Hills?” Claudia asked.

She had. Rachel had loved Beacon Hills so much, in fact, that Claudia had been conceived on a blanket in the Preserve. No one was immune to the colour of those leaves in the fall. Even twelve years later, Stiles could see them when he closed his eyes.

“Dad?”

“She loved it,” Stiles said honestly.

Claudia looked at him thoughtfully before standing up. “Fine. I’ll get the newspaper.”

In just a few minutes, the kitchen table was covered and Claudia was stabbing into the top of the pumpkin with a knife bigger than her head.

“Please be careful,” Stiles said. “I don’t want our first Beacon Hills adventure to be the hospital.”

“It’s just a circle,” she replied. Stiles still held his breath until she was finished and the top came off, revealing a pile of seedy goop.

“Yum,” Claudia laughed. They scooped out the insides, moving them to a baking tray to roast the seeds later. As Claudia picked up the small carving knife and got to work, Stiles skimmed the newspaper that covered her workspace. It didn’t seem as if Beacon Hills had changed much—but that wasn’t always a bad thing. Stiles saw the community events calendar and stopped short.

“Clauds,” he said, pulling one of the sheets out from under her pumpkin. “Have you seen this?”

“It’s not my fault if there’s pumpkin on the table.”

Stiles waved her off. “The Beacon Hills Fall Fair is next Friday! I used to go all the time as a kid. There’s a week of events all over town leading up to it. That would be a great way to get to know the town.”

Claudia took the paper from his hand and eyed it suspiciously. “Dad, seriously? These things are for babies.”

He snatched it back. “Admittedly some of these are for children. But not all of them! Look, the lantern walk is on Monday. Don’t you want to walk through the spooky forest at night?”

“What gave you that idea?” Claudia asked with a grin. She spun her pumpkin around to reveal a bat with vampire teeth.

“Nice!” Stiles exclaimed. “How do you feel about adding some spiders?”

So maybe Claudia hadn’t explicitly agreed to take part in the festivities, but the lack of a vehement refusal was enough for Stiles. As they finished carving the pumpkin, he was already mentally rearranging his plans for the week. When they were done, Claudia was going to love Beacon Hills.

**Monday: Lantern Walk. Beacon Hills Preserve, 8PM.**

“Please hold your child’s hand as we pass through the preserve,” the guide shouted. “And be careful with your lanterns around the trees.”

“In my day, these lanterns used real fire,” Stiles whispered to Claudia. “You’d have to try pretty hard to burn down the forest with a battery-operated light.”

“I have no doubt you could do it,” she replied, taking his hand. She was hardly a child anymore but Stiles wasn’t complaining. He wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed tightly.

There was a gap in the trees on the edge of the preserve just big enough for two people. As Claudia and Stiles passed through, it was like going back in time. Stiles could practically see his mother chasing him as he bounded through the forest, picking up bugs and whistling to birds and altogether ignoring her pleas for caution.

“Your grandmother used to bring me here,” Stiles whispered. Claudia looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?”

“She needed somewhere to let out all that energy,” he laughed.

They followed the guide down the well-trodden path. He pointed out the different varieties of trees and a few of the flowers, but it wasn’t nearly as exciting as Stiles remembered. His memory was full of whispered ghost stories and beasts rustling in the forest – though he was starting to suspect that had been his mother trying to scare him. If this was Claudia’s first impression of the town, there was no way she’d go through with the rest of the week. Stiles was already beginning to spiral when he noticed a familiar path snaking through the woods.

“Claudia,” Stiles whispered, tugging on her arm. “This way.”

“The guide is going straight,” she replied. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I practically grew up in this forest. This trail is way nicer.”

He’d taken the path through the old Hale property so many times, he could probably draw it from memory. The Hales had moved out of town a long time ago, and he just hoped whoever lived there now hadn’t put up a fence. It was unlikely – everyone in Beacon Hills was so trusting, it was concerning sometimes.

“Dad, there’s a river!” Claudia said, pointing ahead of them.

“Don’t walk too close to the edge,” he cautioned, pulling her towards him. She rolled her eyes and pushed his arm away. Ah, parenting.

As the sun faded even further down the horizon, the moon grew stronger. It reflected in ripples across the dark water of the river. The tall trees threw shadows across the open air, and Stiles rustled a few branches as he passed.

“Now this is spooky,” he said, elbowing Claudia in glee. She opened her mouth to respond but a deep voice behind Stiles beat her to it.

“Actually, this is private property.”

Claudia yelped and Stiles shoved her behind him as he whirled around. A tall man in a leather jacket was giving him a magnificent scowl. There was a young boy standing a few feet behind the man, which made Stiles feel a bit better. Murderers didn't usually bring their children along.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, heart pounding. “We were on the lantern walk and we lost our way.”

Claudia stepped out from behind Stiles’ back and the man’s face softened. He took a step forward and held out his hand.

“Hello. I’m Derek.”

Stiles tried to mask his surprise as he pulled the lantern higher. It cast Derek’s face in a warm glow. The years had changed it—more facial hair, for one—but it was definitely him. Since when were the Hales back in town?

“I’m Claudia,” she said, shaking his hand. “This is my dad.”

“I’m Stiles.” There was no reason for Derek to recognise him. They hadn’t been in the same classes, and let’s face it – Derek had been _leagues_ above Stiles socially. Plus, Stiles liked to think he’d glowed up a bit over the years.

“This is my son Lucas,” Derek said. Lucas shook Claudia’s hand and Stiles resisted a smile. He loved when kids greeted each other as if they were tiny businesspeople.

“You must’ve been pretty scared when you got lost,” Lucas said. Claudia shook her head vigorously, her brown curls bouncing along with it.

“We weren’t actually lost. I don’t know why Dad said that.” _Great. Thanks kid._

“You should be able to catch up with everyone,” Derek interrupted, gesturing towards a well-trodden path a few feet away. “This trail meets up with the main one close to the edge of the preserve.”

“Do we have to?” Claudia whispered, eyeing Stiles. “The lantern walk was boring as hell.”

“Language,” Stiles whispered back.

Claudia rolled her eyes. “I’m almost thirteen.”

“God help us all.”

Their banter was interrupted by a smothered laugh from Lucas. He stood beside Derek with wide eyes.

“I bet there’s no swearing at your house, huh?” Stiles said. “This guy must run a tight ship.”

“Dad swears sometimes,” Lucas answered. “But I’m not allowed to.” Stiles smirked at Derek. He loved honesty when it came from other people’s children. Derek clearly didn’t feel as amused because he just stared at the ground.

“Isn’t that so unfair?” Claudia asked, stepping towards Lucas. Lucas just seemed excited to be involved. His cheeks flushed as he nodded his head so vigorously that his glasses slid down his nose.

“Where do you live?” Derek asked.

“A few streets over from the animal clinic,” Stiles replied. “We’re not far.”

“There’s a shortcut down that way,” he said. “Take it straight until it splits, and then go right.”

“Dad, can we walk with them?” Lucas asked. Derek looked at Stiles, both trying to gauge the other’s willingness to indulge their children.

“Just go before they say no,” Claudia said, tugging Lucas towards the path. Giggles floated into the air and Stiles resigned himself to an awkward trip home.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Stiles said to Derek, falling into stride just behind their children. “Claudia hasn’t made any friends yet. This is good for her.”

“When did you get back?”

“Back?” Stiles asked.

“I remember you,” Derek said, his breath clouding in the cold air as they walked. “From before.”

“How? You were at least a few years ahead of me in school.”

“The sheriff’s son was kind of a legend.”

_Oh god._

“Exactly how many of those stories did you hear?”

“I definitely heard the one about Lydia Martin,” Derek said. “Although she’s now married to my sister, so I’m not sure you had much of a chance.”

“That’s so embarrassing,” Stiles groaned. “Although, if that’s the worst you heard—”

“Jackson Whittemore’s senior party is probably the worst I heard,” Derek countered. Stiles made a strangled noise that he hoped passed for a laugh. He’d forgotten that while Claudia was leaving her old life behind, he was running back to his.

“Sorry,” Derek said. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles replied. “I’d just forgotten about some of that stuff.”

“Of course.” It might’ve been a trick of the light, but Stiles thought he noticed a flicker of sadness in Derek’s eyes.

“When did you move back?” Stiles asked, trying to bring the subject back to something less traumatizing.

“About ten years ago,” Derek said. “I was raising Lucas on my own and thought it would help to be somewhere familiar.”

“Are you widowed too?” Stiles asked. Usually he was more reserved about his marital status, but with his dad still living in Beacon Hills, the news had spread quickly.

“No,” Derek replied. “Never married. Lucas’ mom isn’t in the picture.”

“Got it,” Stiles said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

“It’s fine.”

They finished the walk in awkward silence, made slightly more comfortable by Claudia and Lucas chattering in front of them. Stiles could do this—play nice with other adults for the sake of his kid. Hell, it was practically a rite of passage as a parent.

“Thank you for walking us home!” Claudia said, waving her arm in wide arcs as Derek and Lucas disappeared back into the Preserve. “See you tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow?” Stiles asked.

******Tuesday: Pie Contest. Beacon Hills High School, Gymnasium. 7PM. Entry forms can be printed from the Town Hall website.** ** **

It had been more than 24 hours and Stiles still couldn’t shake his nerves. He’d been tempted to ask Claudia if she wanted to skip this and get a burger and pie at the local diner, but his conscience wouldn’t let him.

“Clauds,” Stiles said, ushering her into the gym. “There are going to be a lot of people I grew up with here. Any rude stories they tell you are absolutely false.”

A loud, familiar laugh came from behind them.

“Grandpa!” Claudia cried, throwing her arms around John. He still wore his Sheriff’s jacket, just without the badge. He’d kept himself busy since his retirement a few years ago, including a few trips to Portland to visit them. Still, it was nice to be in a place where Stiles could run into his father without booking a flight first.

“Hey Dad,” Stiles said, giving him a hug. “I hope you aren’t here to eat pie.”

“Just here for moral support,” he promised. “And to see my favourite person.”

“I know that’s Claudia but I’ll pretend otherwise.”

John winked at his granddaughter and she blinked both eyes back. They were still working on that.

“You run into any old friends yet?” John asked. Stiles shifted uncomfortably.

“I wouldn’t call him a friend, but I did run into Derek Hale yesterday.”

“Oh.” John raised his eyebrows. “He’s grown up nicely.”

“Dad!”

The sheriff lifted his hands in innocence. “I’m just observing.”

“Well I think he’s a little young for you.”

“Stiles, it’s been two years since Rachel died,” John said softly. “I’m not telling you to marry the man, but it couldn’t hurt to get back out there.”

Claudia tugged on Stiles’ arm. “There’s Lucas! Can we go say hi?”

“Don’t you want to make some new friends?” Stiles asked. He scanned the crowd for some candidates. “There’s a group of girls over on those hay bales.”

“They’re six years old at most,” Claudia huffed.

“You were six once!”

“Lucas…” John hummed, cutting off their squabble. “Derek’s kid?”

“Maybe,” Stiles said reluctantly. His dad smirked and clapped Stiles’ back with a little more force than necessary.

“I’ll catch up later,” he said. “If you need me, I _won’t_ be sneaking samples from the judging table.”

“Traitor!”

Stiles gave in to Claudia’s relentless pulling. Lucas—of course—was accompanied by Derek. He looked less threatening in the warm glow of the gym, sporting a red flannel shirt and dark jeans.

“Lucas!” Claudia shouted, releasing Stiles’ hand to run over to him. Lucas brightened visibly and Stiles felt bad that he’d tried to keep them apart out of his own embarrassment.

“You’re entering the contest?” Claudia asked incredulously. The tips of Derek’s ears turned red. “What kind of pie did you make? Can I try it?”

Derek held his hands up. “Yes, blueberry, and no.”

“No?”

“Last I checked, you aren’t a judge.”

“I’ll give you a ten out of ten anyway?” Claudia tried, batting her eyelashes. Derek laughed.

“Why don’t you and Lucas take this up to the judging table?”

Lucas held the pie carefully in both hands as Claudia pushed through the crowd in front of him, clearing a path. Stiles watched them until they were out of sight. With nothing left to distract him, he turned to Derek.

“They’ve done a good job of decorating,” Stiles said awkwardly. It wasn’t untrue—with the twinkle lights, plaid tablecloths and hay bales, it seemed more like a barn than a gymnasium. The basketball hoops on either side were the only giveaway.

Derek looked around thoughtfully. “Thanks. We mostly reused last year’s decorations.”

“We?”

“I’m a teacher here,” Derek explained. “History.”

Stiles let out a low whistle. “That’s impressive. Although with the caliber of teachers I had, I’m not sure the standard is very high.”

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t—that’s not what I—”

“I know,” Derek said, saving him from his misery. “I like to think I bring up the average around here.”

“You certainly do,” Stiles muttered. Derek glanced at him and Stiles looked away. It was impossible to deny that Derek was attractive. With his scruff and his eyebrows and his shoulders, he was like a lumberjack-professor-werewolf.

It had been years since Stiles had to worry about attractive people. Sometimes he and Rachel would point them out to one another on the street or he’d see a beautiful stranger at the grocery store, but it was never even a consideration. He had Rachel and Rachel had him. End of story. Being around Derek made him feel warm and itchy and a bit sick in a way he’d forgotten was possible.

The announcer put them out of their misery and started the judging. Claudia and Lucas scurried back to their parents, whispering their predictions. Derek and Lucas managed to win third place, which Lucas cheerfully accepted. Derek proudly pinned the ribbon to Lucas’ shirt while Claudia insulted the judges on his behalf.

“I can’t believe first place went to apple,” she said. “It’s so boring!”

“You love apple pie,” Stiles reminded her. “And please remember that people can hear you.”

“I’m being supportive, Dad.”

“It’s okay,” Lucas said, adjusting his glasses. “We’ll try again next year.”

“We will,” Derek promised. “For now, let’s get out of here before the rest of the teachers spot us.”

“That’s not very community-oriented of you,” Stiles whispered, following Derek through the swarms of people toward the front doors of the school.

“The only thing I’m oriented towards is my couch,” Derek replied, much to Stiles’ amusement. _Positive interactions: 1._

They pushed through the front doors of the school and into the crisp autumn air. Stiles practically felt his heart soar with the festive crunch of the leaves beneath his feet. There really was nothing like fall in Beacon Hills. He started walking towards the jeep, but Derek stopped him.

“Could you hold on a minute?”

He jogged over to his van just a few parking spots away then came back, handing Stiles a silver pie plate covered in foil.

“Extra pie,” he said. “We had to test it a few too many times. There’s no way Lucas and I will eat all of it.”

“Thanks,” Stiles replied. “Although I have to ask, which attempt is this? I’ll totally understand if it’s the first one. I know we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, and—”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted, clamping both of his hands on Stiles’ shoulders. “I’m trying to be friendly.”

“Right,” Stiles replied. “Friendly. Friends.”

“Our kids clearly get along, so it would be nice if we could too.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been awkward,” Stiles said, blowing out a deep breath. “It’s just—I haven’t made new friends in a while. And despite the stories you might’ve heard, I’m not the same person I was in high school.

“I know that,” Derek said steadily. “Do you think I’m the same person I was in high school?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you in that football uniform again.” Derek rolled his eyes.

“I want to get to know you. However you are now.” Stiles had nothing snarky to say to such an earnest response.

“I’d like that too,” he replied. Derek gave him a tiny nod and turned back towards his car. Stiles climbed into the jeep and started the engine, turning on the heat right away.

“Clauds? Did Lucas say if they’d be at the library tomorrow?”

“I didn’t ask,” she said. “Why?”

“No reason.”

******Wednesday: Festive Films. Beacon Hills Library, Main Atrium.** ** **

**********Pooh's Heffalump Halloween Movie. All ages. 10:30AM.  
** **Hotel Transylvania. Ages 7+. 2PM.**  
**Hocus Pocus: Ages 12+. 7PM.**

Stiles took Claudia’s jacket and shoved it onto the seats beside them, doing the same with his. He settled in and leaned the popcorn towards her.

“Not until the movie starts,” she whispered. Stiles rolled his eyes and shoved his hand into the bag, ignoring her grumbling. As he chewed, the librarian started to close the blinds. Stiles took one last glance across the crowd but didn’t spot a certain someone. He turned to share this information with Claudia and jumped when he found Derek staring back at him.

“Do you mind if we sit here?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head, moving their jackets and shifting down so Lucas could sit beside Claudia.

“Back row is the best row,” Claudia said, stealing the bag of popcorn to offer some to Lucas. “No one kicks your chair and you can talk all you want.”

“Why am I not surprised that your dad talks during movies?” Derek asked. Stiles glared at him but the effect was lost in the near-dark.

“I don’t talk, I _commentate_.”

“I think commentators usually have a willing audience.”

“Shhhh!” Lucas hissed, pushing his glasses up his nose before turning towards the screen. Derek and Stiles also focused their attention on the screen, suitably chastised.

Stiles had forgotten just how much death was in _Hocus Pocus_. When Thackery Binx finally joined his sister in the afterlife after years of missing her, Stiles had to pinch his wrist so he didn’t weep in front of everyone.

As the lights went up, people stood and began to stretch as they returned to the real world. Stiles stole a glance at Derek and saw that he was wearing a worn red Henley and grey sweatpants. The pants had a little beaver logo on the side and Stiles couldn’t help thinking of Derek’s front teeth. God, he looked cute.

“You alright, Stiles?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. “The witches are dead. They won’t come get you in the night.”

“You should be careful,” Stiles retorted. “I heard they like virgins.”

“Very mature.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to get to know me.”

Stiles waited for a smart retort from Derek, but he was looking right past him.

“Where are the kids?”

Stiles turned around as if they’d be standing right there, but clearly Derek was right. They were nowhere to be seen.

“Maybe they went to the bathroom?” Stiles asked. They picked up their stuff and headed towards the bathroom. They had every reason to stay calm—Beacon Hills was a safe town—but there was still a low-level panic that Stiles suspected Derek was feeling too.

Stiles barrelled towards the bathroom until Derek grabbed his sleeve, yanking him to a stop. He motioned to be quiet and pointed down one of the aisles. Claudia and Lucas were sitting on the floor, her eyes were rimmed with red. Stiles felt his heart drop.

“Do you think my mom is all alone, waiting for me?” she asked, turning towards Lucas. He was quiet for a moment.

“I think she’s waiting for you, but I don’t think she’s alone.”

“Really?”

“My grandparents are up there too. I’ll ask them to keep her company.”

“Thanks.” Claudia sniffed and gave him a watery smile. “I just miss her sometimes.”

Lucas slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it. Stiles had to push his hands against his eyes to stop the tears from forming. Derek placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and Stiles gave him a smile that he suspected looked a lot like Claudia’s. The kids sat in silence for a moment before Lucas perked up.

“Maybe your mom will come back as a ghost on Halloween.”

“You think?” Claudia asked.

“We should make something for her just in case,” Lucas said excitedly. “They’re doing crafts at the community centre tomorrow.”

“Really?” Claudia asked. “Will you help me?”

“Definitely.”

The two began chattering at their normal volume and Derek stepped into the aisle abruptly, as if he’d just arrived.

“There you are! We were worried.”

“Sorry,” Claudia said, wiping her cheeks one last time. “I didn’t really like the movie.”

“Me neither,” Derek replied, helping her up. “You know, they usually take votes a few weeks before. Maybe next year you can suggest something else?”

“That’s a good idea,” Claudia replied, staring up at him.

Stiles wrapped his arm around her and led her out of the aisle. Through the tall glass windows, he could see the trees blowing in the wind and paused to help Claudia put on her jacket. A small voice whispered in the aisle and Stiles strained to hear.

“Dad,” Lucas said. “Tomorrow night—"

“Don’t worry,” Derek replied, his voice low. “I’ll cancel lacrosse.”

They emerged from the aisle, Derek’s arm around Lucas, and something warm flared in Stiles’ heart. In a strange way, it felt like family.

**Thursday: Halloween crafts at Beacon Hills Community Centre. 6PM-8PM.**

“That slime is not coming into my house,” Stiles shouted. His warning was lost on Claudia as she and Lucas bolted towards the craft station.

“They should have adult crafts too,” Stiles said. “The low level of skill these require is insulting.”

“I’m more insulted by the phrase _adult crafts_ ,” Derek replied. “Are you telling me that you craft, Stiles?”

“I can craft at least three different Halloween-themed shots,” he said. Derek snorted.

“Great idea. Get a ton of adults drunk in a room full of children.”

“Claudia can drive home,” Stiles replied. “She has a good head on her shoulders.”

“Let her drive and she’ll have no head on her shoulders.”

“Derek!” Stiles exclaimed. “That was so dark. I can’t believe you’re joking about children dying.”

“One child. Singular.”

“You’re right, that’s way better.”

Derek grinned at Stiles and _oh shit_. It was the first real smile he’d gotten from Derek and it was doing funny things to his heart. He dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to quell the flush he knew was rushing to his cheeks.

“How about we grab some apple cider and sit at one of the adult tables?” Derek asked.

“Good call,” Stiles replied. “I need to get my fill before we move into hot chocolate season.”

“I’m pretty sure no one will stop you from drinking apple cider in the winter,” Derek said, grabbing two cups from the drinks station.

“Everyone knows the year is divided into four seasons,” Stiles replied, claiming one of the few empty tables. “Slushies, apple cider, hot chocolate, and… okay, there’s nothing for spring.”

“Shamrock shakes?”

Stiles shook his head. “Disgusting.”

Eventually the conversation moved to more serious ground. Stiles learned that Derek was the only Hale left in town. His family was scattered elsewhere, but Laura and Cora (and the infamous Lydia) often came to visit for holidays.

“Claudia and I will probably spend Thanksgiving with my dad,” Stiles said. “I tried to do a turkey last year and practically burnt the house down, so I’m banking it all on him.”

Derek laughed. “Maybe we could all do Thanksgiving together. Laura’s the only one coming this year and we always end up with too much food.”

“I’m sure the kids would love that,” Stiles said, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest. As much as Derek had grown on him in the past few days—and damn it, he had grown on him—this was dangerous territory.

“As long as you aren’t making any pie,” Stiles joked, trying to lighten the mood. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Stiles, Claudia told me you finished it in two days.”

“My daughter is a liar,” Stiles replied, downing the rest of his apple cider. It had gone cold and he winced.

“Dad, look at this!” Claudia ran up and dumped an armful of things on their table, clambering into the chair next to him. Lucas was close behind her. “My slime has purple glitter and plastic spiders in it!”

“Why don’t you give that one to mom?” Stiles asked. “We can bury it deep in the backyard.”

Claudia gave him a knowing look and picked up a short glass jar. Squares of orange tissue paper were glued all over the sides and covered with gold glitter in the shape of stars and moons. Someone had written Rachel’s name in lovely cursive.

“I made this one for mom. Well, Lucas helped too. I thought maybe we could put a candle inside and leave it on the porch. Just so she knows we’re here.”

“That’s a great idea, pumpkin,” Stiles said, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Can we trick or treat together?” Lucas asked. Stiles was about to give him a non-committal answer so he could discuss with Claudia when they got home, but she jumped in.

“Yes! Please, Dad? Lucas said his friends from school go every year, and that way I could meet them before I start school after fall break.”

"That sounds great,” Stiles said. “As long as it’s okay with Derek?”

“Of course,” Derek replied. “The parents usually get together at someone’s house while the kids are out. I’ll add you to the group text.”

“Thanks.”

More kids were steadily streaming in to do crafts, so Stiles and Derek gathered the kids’ stuff and carried it out to the car. They waved goodbye, promising to meet up at the fair tomorrow, and then piled into the car.

“I can’t believe there’s only one more day,” Claudia said, sighing. Stiles was tempted to remind her how opposed she’d been to all of this last week, but he was so happy to see her happy that he let it slide.

“Just wait until Christmas,” Stiles replied. “That’s like, a month of events.”

“Can we do them with the Hales?” Claudia asked, her eyes lighting up. Stiles sighed.

“Sure, pumpkin.”

They listened to the Monster Mash blast through the radio for a bit before Claudia spoke again.

“Dad?” she said. “I know you wanted me to make friends. But I’m happy you made a friend too.”

“Me too, pumpkin,” Stiles replied. “Me too.”

******Friday: Beacon Hills Fall Fair. 6PM-11PM. See Town Hall website for full schedule.** ** **

The Beacon Hills Fall Fair was like something out of a Hallmark movie: glistening red candy apples, hay rides, and twinkling lights strung around weathered wooden stalls.

“Look at this!” Claudia shrieked, jumping up and down as they waited in line to enter the fair. She was holding Stiles’ hand and she yanked his arm so hard it almost fell off.

“I hate it when you have caffeine,” Stiles grumbled. Claudia had been asking for a pumpkin spice latte for weeks, and while Stiles insisted coffee would delay her growth, she wouldn’t give in. They’d compromised and gotten pumpkin spice mochas from the local café.

“It’ll fuel me through the fair,” Claudia replied. “I need to visit everything at least once.”

Stiles paid the entry fee – a donation to the local animal shelter – and bought twenty ride tickets. They were far more expensive than he remembered, but the profits went towards next year’s event so he couldn’t complain.

“Battle plan,” Stiles said, ticking off the events on his fingers. “Rides, food, activities?”

Claudia thought for a moment and then shook her head. “Can we do food first? I’m pretty hungry. Then activities so I can digest, and rides at the end.”

“Works for me,” Stiles said. He’d loved Claudia’s infant years, but he had to admit there was something nice about speaking to her like an adult. He’d been afraid she’d grow up too quickly after Rachel died, but it only made him see that she’d already been growing up right in front of his eyes. He was so proud to see the woman she was becoming.

“Dad, stop looking at me like that,” Claudia grumbled. “It’s more likely to make me barf than the rides.”

Okay, not entirely grown up.

“Pick a food, any food,” Stiles said, ruffling her hair. “Corn dogs? Deep fried pickles?”

Claudia spun in a circle, trying to read all of the signs. He couldn’t fault her indecision – everything looked delicious and the smells were out of this world.

“How about we walk all the way down so you can see everything?” Stiles asked. Claudia nodded and began to wander down the row of stalls. Luckily Beacon Hills was a small town, so there was no pushing through crowds or waiting in massive lines. They took their time, even trying a few samples along the way. In the end, they chose pumpkin mac and cheese, maple bacon poutine and some apple cider doughnut holes.

They headed towards the picnic tables in the dining area, which were starting to fill up with locals. Stiles noticed a few parents he’d seen at the week’s events and waved. He and Claudia found a table and sat, tucking in to the food while it was still hot.

“Claudia!”

Lucas was headed towards their table, a plate balanced in his hands. Derek followed close behind with even more food.

“Hey,” Derek greeted, sliding onto the opposite bench. “Mind if we join you?”

“It would be rude to make you get up now,” Stiles replied. Derek shook his head, but he was grinning.

“What did you get?” Claudia asked.

“Apple cinnamon funnel cakes,” Lucas replied, his mouth already full of another bite. A puff of powdered sugar flew out of his mouth when he spoke and settled on Claudia’s shirt. She laughed and brushed it off.

“Dessert before dinner?” Stiles asked, gesturing towards the spiced pork sandwiches in front of Derek. “This really is the wild west.”

“Rules were made to be broken,” Derek said, tearing off a piece of funnel cake and shoving it in his mouth. The kids finished eating in record time, clearly eager to get to the rides.

“Can we go on the bumper cars?” Claudia asked, practically vibrating in her seat. “Wait, no! Let’s do the teacups first!”

“Activities first,” Stiles reminded her. “How about a hay ride?”

“That sounds nice,” Derek agreed. They tidied up their table and stopped at the trash before lining up for the hay rides. When it was their turn, they piled into the bed of the wagon. Derek’s arm pressed against Stiles’ in a long line and he shivered.

“It’s cold,” Stiles said, making a show of rubbing his hands together to hide his embarrassment. Derek just nodded roughly, but the tips of his ears were red.

The wagon took a dirt road along the edge of the fairgrounds, through bits of forest and the local pumpkin patch. The sky was just starting to turn dusky and the kids shouted every time they saw a firefly blink through the trees.

“I missed this,” Stiles whispered.

“Hay rides?” Derek asked.

“All of it,” Stiles said. “The quiet. The traditions. The community.” He breathed deeply, watching it puff into the cold air. “We had traditions and community in Portland. But not like this.”

“Beacon Hills is special,” Derek said. He knocked his leg into Stiles'. “A special town for special people.”

“Gross,” Stiles huffed, and they both laughed. They were quiet for the rest of the ride, watching as the sky turned from dusk to ink, the stars beginning to peek through the clouds. It felt like hours before the ride ended and they climbed out, their legs wobbling like baby deer. It was like coming out of a dream.

“What’s next?” Stiles asked, brushing some stray hay from Lucas’ coat.

“Rides!” Claudia exclaimed. Lucas voiced his agreement and Stiles looked at Derek.

“I’m too old for rides, but we can go watch them?” Derek suggested. He looked down at his watch. “Or the harvest dance starts in a few minutes?”

“Boring,” Lucas said. Claudia laughed.

“Don’t let her rude habits rub off on you,” Stiles cautioned. “Try to give some of your nice ones to her.” Claudia stuck her tongue out and he did it right back. Her face broke into a wide grin.

“Go, enjoy the rides!” Stiles said, waving them off. “Here’s my phone. Be safe and text Derek when you’re out of tickets. We’ll meet at the Ferris wheel.”

They quickly agreed before running off into the crowd. Stiles and Derek made their way towards the harvest dance, leaning against the fence that surrounded the open-walled dance floor. More twinkle lights were strung around the posts and there was a live band on a makeshift stage.

They were quiet, watching couples twirl around the dance floor. There was an older woman dancing with what must’ve been her grandchild and Stiles’ heart panged.

“Did your parents ever come to the dance?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded, lost in thoughts of his own.

“Every year. Laura and I were always too busy on the rides. I think my parents loved that this was a haven away from us,” he laughed.

“Mine too,” Stiles said. “My mom always wore this red dress with a leather jacket. It was like, the coolest mix of country and badass. I swear nothing made my dad prouder than spinning her around the floor.”

“We must’ve been at the fair at the same time,” Derek said. “Although I guess we wouldn’t have noticed back then.”

“I’m sure I would’ve noticed you,” Stiles said. His cheeks burned and he dug his toe into the dirt, bashing a little hole in the ground.

“Did you ever come here with Rachel?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded.

Hearing Rachel’s name never stopped hurting, but it was nice to have someone else bring her up. After she’d died, her name felt like word vomit. It came out everywhere, in the middle of the workday or at drinks with friends. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and sometimes he wished someone else would say something. He wished someone else would mourn her so he didn’t have to feel so alone.

“You must miss her,” Derek said.

There were no words. Stiles sighed, pushing back from the fence.

“I thought it would get easier with time. And it did, but not easy enough. I thought it might help if we moved out of Portland where all of our memories were, but it’s still so hard. Every day I wonder what she’d think of the new ice cream I bought, or how she’d calm Claudia down when she gets frustrated.” Stiles stepped away from the fence and pressed his palms against his eyelids, willing the tears to go down. “I just don’t know who I am without her.”

“Stiles,” Derek said softly, grabbing his wrists gently and pulling them away from his face. “I know who you are. You’re a wonderful father. You’re a caring friend. You’re kind, and funny, and far too sarcastic for your own good.” Stiles choked on a laugh and Derek’s face softened. “You're the kind of person who would accept a stranger’s terrible first attempt at a pie just to be nice.”

“So you admit that was the first attempt?” Stiles said, wiping his cheeks. Derek smiled at him—not the blinding, all-encompassing one he’d seen before, but a smaller, quieter one. It made Stiles’ heart jump.

“Dance with me, Stiles.”

Stiles looked up at Derek. For once, there was no embarrassment or shyness anywhere on his face. He looked determined. Certain of something.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” Stiles said.

“I didn’t ask if you were good,” Derek replied, holding out his hand. Stiles placed his hand into Derek’s and followed him onto the dance floor. His palm was warm and rough, much like the man himself. Derek looped his arms around Stiles’ neck and Stiles moved them down to his waist, looping his arms around Derek's neck instead.

“I’m shorter,” Stiles said, sniffling away the last of his tears. “My arms get the easier job.”

“I don’t mind,” Derek said, tightening his hands on Stiles’ waist and pulling him closer. Stiles leaned in to Derek, their cheeks hovering centimetres apart. Derek smelled like laundry detergent and pine. It was so different from Rachel. She’d worn a perfume that smelled like freesias and sunshine. Stiles could still recognize it anywhere. But in different ways, they both smelled like home.

“I never thought _you_ would be the one to make _me_ dance in public,” Stiles whispered. Derek huffed a laugh.

“I didn’t either. But it didn’t look like you were asking me anytime soon.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said. “I think I’ve forgotten how to do this.”

“There’s no rush,” Derek said. “We can figure it out together.”

Stiles pressed his cheek into Derek’s neck. If there was one thing Rachel’s death had taught him, it’s that there was a rush. Life was short. There was so much to fit into it, and so many things you’d never get to do with the people you loved. You had to take chances where you could get them. A surprise proposal. A backyard wedding. A spontaneous romp in the forest. That last one had given him the greatest gift of his life.

“Derek?” Stiles pulled back to look into his eyes. They were full of affection and concern and Stiles’ heart swelled. He’d been lucky enough to find this feeling once in his life. Finding it twice was a miracle.

Stiles leaned up and pressed his mouth against Derek’s. Derek kissed him back immediately, moving one hand from Stiles’ waist to tangle in his hair. The kiss was gentle and urgent and hopeful. Stiles couldn’t help smiling when he pulled away.

They swayed back and forth under the twinkling lights, the autumn breeze rustling through their hair. People swirled around them, but they were lost in their own little world until Derek’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“There’s no way they’re out of tickets already,” Stiles murmured. Derek huffed a laugh.

“Knowing our kids? There’s a good chance.”

Our kids. Stiles liked the sound of that.

“One more dance for the road?” Stiles asked. The end of the song flowed smoothly into something a little more upbeat and Derek nodded. He grabbed Stiles’ hand and began to spin him across the dance floor. Eventually Stiles tripped on his own feet and fell laughing into Derek’s chest.

“I guess we should be good parents and go check on them,” Stiles said, pulling away but keeping their hands clasped together. Derek rubbed his thumb gently across Stiles’ knuckles as they headed back into the bustle of the fair. Lucas and Claudia were sitting on a bench under the Ferris wheel, their arms full of stuffed animals that were surely the source of the missing tickets.

On Stiles and Claudia’s porch, a candle sprung to life.

**Author's Note:**

> In the true spirit of Hallmark, this has no plot, no conflict, and a relationship that moves far too quickly.


End file.
